We're Dancing
by She's a Star
Summary: Rehearsing Spectacular Spectacular, Satine and Christian take on the parts of the Hindu courtesan and sitar player as they rehearse one of the dance numbers.


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We're Dancing

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by She's a Star

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Disclaimer: Moulin Rouge belongs to Baz Luhrmann. 'We're Dancing' belongs to Mandy Moore.

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Author's Note: I tried to do a little Your Song-esque thing here...not sure if it worked. *shrugs* Ah well.

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~*~

"Lunch break!"

Harold Zidler's booming voice rang through the ears of every person inside the great dance hall, a relief to all the hard-working participants in Spectacular Spectacular. At once a stampede of can-can girls, prostitutes, and Bohemians fled towards the grand double doors, eager to get outside in the warm air and escape the stuffy Moulin.

A twisted grin on his rabbit-like face, the Duke of Monroth made his way slowly over to the Sparkling Diamond.

Satine groaned inwardly and refrained from rolling her eyes, instead opting to give him a coquettish smile. 

"My dear, there is a marvelous cafe over on the other side of town where we could stop for lunch."

"Oh, my dear Duke," Satine breathed in response, sneaking a sideways glance at Christian and widening her blue eyes slightly in an indication. "I'd love to-"

"Mademoiselle Satine," Christian cut in shyly, right on target. "I've composed a new song for the Dance Under the Stars scene, and I was wondering if you could stay here and sing it for me. I'm not quite sure if it's in your voice range."

"How dare you imply that Mademoiselle Satine cannot sing-" the Duke started, apparently figuring that he ought to stick up for his diamond.

"Monsieur Claremont," Satine cut in, laying a hand on the Duke's arm and causing him to fall silent at once, "Much as I would have enjoyed a luncheon with the Duke, I am obliged to stay here and work on the play until I have the song down to perfection."

"But, my dear," argued the Duke, "You've worked on the production so much already-"

"And I will continue to work on it," Satine declared. "This is important to me, Duke..."

She cast her eyes downward, fluttering long lashes slightly and fixing her lips into a pout.

"But if you'd rather I went with you..." she continued, her voice trailing off.

"No, no, no," the Duke said with a heaving sigh. "You stay here, my dear. I know how important this is to you. But can I count on seeing you for supper tonight?"

"Of course, darling Duke," Satine said with a charming smile. "Wild horses couldn't keep me away."

"Eight o'clock, then?"

"Eight o'clock," Satine repeated, lowering her voice to a seductive murmur.

He flashed her the dreaded Bedroom Eyes before turning and walking out of the hall, his footsteps echoing in the large, empty room.

Satine let out a sigh of relief and took a few steps closer to Christian, her fingers reaching, outstretched, for his. 

"My dear!"

The Duke spun around promptly, and Satine jumped away from Christian as though he were diseased. The chortling laughter of Toulouse and his Bohemian friends rang in her ears, but she ignored it. 

"Yes, Dear Duke?"

"I think I should enjoy staying and watching you practice," he declared. "Your singing is so very lovely."

Satine resisted the almost overpowering urge to scream at the top of her lungs, _"Get out of my face, you walking rodent!"_

"Of course, Duke," she smiled, then turned to Christian. "Monsieur Claremont, shall we act out the scene or should I just sing?"

"Er...act it out, I suppose," Christian responded, his cheeks reddening. Satine winked quickly at him, knowing very well why: the scene ended in a passionate kiss between the sitar player and Hindu courtesan.

Biting his lower lip, Christian grabbed two copies of the script from the booth where the Bohos were sitting and made his way over next to her. 

"You! Writer!" the Duke snapped irritably.

"Yes?" Christian asked nervously.

"I suggest you let the Argentinean act his part. After all, he has to learn it. Opening Night is in less than a month."

Christian reluctantly motioned to hand the script to the Argentinean, but he objected.

"Zees eez my lunch break!" he declared, taking a swig from his glass of absinthe. "Let ze boy act my part!"

"Fine," the Duke muttered, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Satine halfway expected him to stick out his tongue at the Argentinean before bawling for his mommy.

Clearing his throat, Christian began to read.

"The Maharaja could come out here at any moment," he said worriedly. "Perhaps we could flee back to my home. He wouldn't dare come there-"

"No," Satine cut him off, a faint smile on her lips as she looked upward to the ceiling. "The stars are so lovely tonight. I've longed to dance under the stars with you...we shall take our risks."

"If he catches us, I could be killed, and I don't dare think what he could do to you-"

"Shh," Satine ordered, pressing her finger lightly to his lips. "Don't worry. Just dance with me."

Christian tossed his script to the floor and took one of Satine's hands in his own, then placed the other on her hip. She allowed her script to fall from her grasp and placed her hand on his shoulder, then began the song she and Christian had composed the evening before.

"When the going starts to get rough," she sang sweetly, her clear soprano ringing through the room as they swayed slowly back and forth. "And you feel like you've had enough, let the music take control of your soul."

Their feet began to move in unison, and Christian led her through the hall, a warm smile on his face. 

"Take a chance and do what you feel," she continued, voice growing louder. "You're a force, they cannot live without it. You've got to break the chain."

Christian dipped her down, and Satine let her red curls graze against the floor for a moment before he pulled her up close to him again. 

"There's a passion inside," she sang, "An inner strength that drives, can't nobody take that away from you. It's the greatest high; you set the floor on fire when you come alive."

Closing her eyes momentarily, Satine painted a picture in her mind; the Hindu courtesan and her beloved sitar player, dancing around the brilliantly lit garden under the stars. Though she opened her eyes seconds later, the glorious scene before her didn't fade away. Instead, as though by some magical work of the mind, she and Christian spun around the fantasy world, the Duke and Bohos long forgotten.

"And we're dancing, and it feels all right!" Christian's voice joined Satine's own, mingling sweetly and seeming to cause the stars to shimmer with more vigor. "I can't control my desire! And we're dancing, and it feels all right! Can't hold me down; I'm gonna reach for the sky, and we're dancing, and it feels all right!"

Laughing merrily, Satine snatched a red rose from one of the many bushes surrounding them, ignoring the piercing sting that one of the thorns sent through her pointer finger. A tiny ruby droplet of blood collected on her fingertip, and Christian lowered his lips to it slowly. Immediately the pain was dulled, replaced instead by the giddy sensation of being in love.

"Some people don't know the love you possess," he sang, fixing the rose in her hair. "They pretend what they don't understand."

"It's natural," Satine continued as they began to dance once more. "You're in a world of your own."

"There's a passion inside," Christian proclaimed with a smile, his smooth, warm voice seeming to caress her soul. "An inner strength that drives; can't nobody take that away from you! It's the greatest high, you set the floor on fire when you come alive!"

"And we're dancing, and it feels all right," they chorused. "Can't hold me down, I'm gonna reach for the sky, and we're dancing, and it feels all right!"

"And we're dancing," Satine finished, throwing her arm out with flourish and causing Christian to burst into laughter.

Smiling at him, she draped her arms over his shoulders and her crimson lips met his own. As the kiss deepened, fireworks erupted around them and the stars seemed to fall from the sky as glitter showered them. Silly love songs danced through the back of her mind, and an unearthly perfection she only felt in Christian's arms filled her. 

Perfect...perfect...per-

"CUT! CUT! CUT!"

Satine's eyes flew open at once, and she jumped out of Christian's warm embrace. Gone was the extravagant garden, the rose tucked behind her ear, the shower of glitter, and the diamond stars.

They had all been replaced with the fuming face of the Duke.

Which, of course, made the loss of everything else completely worthwhile.

"What are you DOING, Writer?!" 

Not.

Christian's cheeks immediately flushed crimson. "The...the...I..."

"The end of the scene calls for a kiss, dear Duke," Satine informed him calmly. 

"Yes," the Duke said nervously. "But-"

"But nothing," Satine said in a no-nonsense tone. "It is how the play was written, and that's how I will perform it."

"All right, dear," the Duke said faintly, defeated. And with that, he turned and left for lunch, muttering to himself about infatuated writers.

As soon as the slamming of the door sounded his exit, Satine threw herself into Christian's arms and pressed her lips firmly to his. Immediately, her mind danced off into a world full of singing moons, sparkling stars, and was, most importantly, devoid of dukes.


End file.
